


In My Home

by runsinthefamily



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Hawke is a BAMF, legacy, nude fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-18
Updated: 2011-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-22 19:09:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runsinthefamily/pseuds/runsinthefamily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the kmeme: <i>We Fenrismancers have to take what we can get from this DLC. Well, Fenris sounded very angry that someone was trying to attack his Hawke, angrier than usual (who isn't trying to kill Hawke?).</i></p><p><i>Did he blame himself for not being there? Maybe he was late to visit and saw her door busted open? Or was he there? Maybe the carta got the drop on Hawke in the first place because they were... distracted? ;)</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Home

He was doing that thing again, where he not-quite-phased and then ran his fingers ... everywhere, and it felt like every nerve in her body was humming at the same time, at the same frequency, and she could smell the lyrium in him, _Maker_ and he laughed against her ribcage as she made a hungry, wanting, wanton noise ...

And then the window broke inward in a spray of glass and Fenris was abruptly leaping over her at the dark form that rolled across the carpet and came upright, crossbow pointed and cocked. Fenris roared, his tattoos lit all at once in a blinding blue flash, and there was a choked-off shriek. Marian rolled the other way, found her staff leaning against the wall, and layered a forest of ice spikes ou the broken window. Another scream, this one falling away and punctuated with a dull thud on the ground outside.

Bodhan shouted something downstairs and was cut off. Sandal wailed. The door flew open and Orana was nearly burnt to a crisp or de-hearted before Marian and Fenris recognized her.

"Mistress!" she sobbed. "Please, there are dwarves, they broke in through the cellars..."

"Into the wardrobe," said Marian, pointing. Orana went like a rabbit to its burrow. "Don't come out until I tell you."

Below, a frenzied burst of shouting was joined by the full-throated baying of a war-trained mabari.

Fenris seized his sword from where it leaned against the fireplace and charged out of the room. Marian was on his heels.

The main hall was a mass of surging bodies and carnage. Pawser had a dwarf by the arm and was shaking him savagely. Sandal stood behind him in a corner, eyes wide, one hand clutched to his chest. Bodahn lay in the door of the library, bleeding from a head wound.

Fenris snarled, went half the stairs two at a time, and launched himself into the air over the balustrade. He fell among the dwarves like a comet from heaven and scattered them back against the walls and furniture. One fell into the fireplace and immediately started screaming.

 _In my home!_ Marian lifted her palms, anger surging up inside her. The air went tinny and flat, there was a sudden drop in pressure, and then lightning spiked down among the combatants below, each white-hot stab aimed with precision into leather-clad dwarven flesh. Marian thrust both hands upward above her head and shook with effort and fury, dragging the spell's duration out with pure will.

The flashes died out, leaving red afterimages burned into her vision. She threw off the lethargy that always gripped her after a powerful casting and leaned over the balcony again.

Fenris was a whirlwind of death among the dazed, shocked, lightning-fried dwarves. A rush by Pawser, a few well-placed freezing spells, and it was over.

Marian rushed down the stairs, turned Bodahn carefully over, and sucked in her breath at the sight of the wound on his temple. She snatched a decorative cloth off the nearby table and tried to stem the bleeding. "Get Anders," she told Pawser, who barked and dashed off to the cellars. Sandal came over and dropped clumsily to his knees next to his foster father.

"He's broken," he said, turning his strange pale eyes on Marian pleadingly.

"We'll fix him," she said.

"You're not wearing any clothes," said Sandal.

"Andraste's arse," Marian swore. She couldn't put Bodahn down again just to preserve her modesty.

"Orana!" Fenris shouted.

A brief pause, and then Oran's pale face appeared over the banister.

"Some clothing for Hawke and I," said Fenris calmly.

She vanished again, only to reappear with an armful of cloth which she handed to Fenris. "Oh, no, Bodahn," she said. "Here, mistress, let me." Her slim hands carefully repositioned Bodahn's head onto her knees.

Marian snatched the robe from Fenris and yanked it on. In her house! Her _home_! "Tell me one of these blighted bastards is still alive." She strode among the bodies, kicking them. "Carta," she said, poking a hooded dwarf with twin sheaths on his back. "Fucking Carta. In my home, Fenris."

"Yes," he said. He managed to pack a world of meaning in one simple word.

There was a moan from beneath the overturned writing desk. Marian reached it in two strides, tossed it aside with a flick of force magic, and pinned the struggling dwarf to the floor with manacles of ice. It was the one Pawser had mangled. His arm was a mess and from the way his left leg was twitching, Pawser had hamstrung him as well.

"Talk," said Marian, leaning over him. "What moron in the Carta thought that invading my home was a good idea?"

"Blood," the dwarf moaned. "Blood." He opened his eyes, and Marian drew back, her breath halted in her lungs. The dwarf's eyes were clouded and grey, pupils and iris lost in a swirl of sickly, almost pearlescent haze.

"Maker's breath," said Marian. "He looks Tainted."

"Back away," said Fenris, pulling her back. "Don't touch him. Did you get blood on you?"

"What about you?" said Marian, searching his bare chest and face for any fleck of red. "There's some in your hair. On your face!"

A bark from the cellars announced Pawser's arrival, Anders in tow.

"Maker's cock," said Anders. He looked even more disheveled than usual, missing his coat and hair loose about his face. "What happened here?"

"Carta," said Marian. She jerked her chin at Bodahn. "Bodahn took a bad blow."

Anders dropped to one knee beside Orana, who looked to him with huge green eyes filled with hope.

"Please, help him," she said.

"I will do what I can," said Anders, lifting the cloth from Bodahn's temple with gentle fingers. A blue glow wreathed his hands, gentle and misty and utterly unlike Fenris's eye-searing displays.

Marian stepped over, arms wrapped around herself, and watched until Bodahn took a deep breath and stirred.

"He'll sleep til morning," said Anders. "He'll be fine. Dwarven skulls are tough nuts to crack. Almost makes you believe their stories about being born from stone." He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"Thank you for coming," said Marian.

He smiled at her, a bit lopsidedly. "Anytime. You know that."

"Mage," said Fenris. "This one's eyes are clouded. Can you sense the taint in him?"

Anders sighed, heaved himself to his feet, and walked over to the prone, muttering dwarf. He reached down, took the dwarf's chin in his hand, and pried one of the eyes fully open. "Hmmm," he said.

"That is not an answer," said Fenris.

"Hang onto your lyrium," Anders snapped. "I'm examining him." He pulled the dwarf's shirt open, pressed at the skin under his jaw, and got Marian to thaw the ice enough to look at his nailbeds. "It's not the Taint," he said. "Not exactly. But - there's definitely something darkspawnish going on here."

"Great," said Marian. "Just what I need in my life."

"Want me to run by the Hanged Man, wake up Varric?" asked Anders.

"No," said Marian quickly. "I don't want you on the streets. Templar patrols are everywhere these days."

The smile Anders gave her was tinged with bittersweet fondness. "Mother hen," he said.

"Get one of the Darktown kids to deliver a message," she said. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a handful of silver. "Pay them when they get back with Varric's answer."

"Hardcase," he said.

"Soft touch," she returned.

Anders shot a look over her shoulder and the humour on his face faded. "Let me know if I can do anything else," he said. "Goodnight, Hawke. Orana." His jaw tightened a bit and then he nodded shortly. "Fenris." He ruffled Sandal's hair, patted Pawser, and then was gone.

Marian floated Bodahn to his bed with a bit of tightly-reined force magic, got Sandal settled down, sent Orana to make tea, since she knew that the woman would only stay up and fret anyway, and then stared around at the ruins of her home. Her bedroom was sprayed with broken glass and blood. The main hall was an abattoir. Even the library was a mess, bookcases knocked over and an end table broken in Bodahn's struggle to keep the invaders from the stairs.

She sat down on the stairs and clenched her fists, trying to quell her anger. Fenris stood a few steps down, his face level with hers, watching her.

"I want to kill something," she said finally.

"Yes," he said.

"My home, Fenris."

He reached out, put a hand to the nape of her neck, and drew their foreheads together. "They will pay," he said, the deep timbre of his voice dropping deeper still. "You and I, we will see to it."

"Yes," she said. She had never been so thankful for his presence, his simple, uncomplicated support, as in that moment. "I'm glad you were here," she said.

He offered her one of his sidelong smiles. "Where else would I be?"


End file.
